


Warm Me Up

by vitaldose



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, also, and they're in love, cause baby its cold outside, ish, so much sexing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitaldose/pseuds/vitaldose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This took me 4 months to complete and at 10 pages and over 4000 words if you made it through bless you, because unless this was my ship I'd be like "GET ON WITH IT". This is also my first story I've written using my main Warden Eliza and I know she's very dry, but I adore her.</p></blockquote>





	Warm Me Up

Eliza had forgotten just how cold the mountains could be until they reached them; she reminded herself to obtain thicker canvas the next time they were in Denerim. Her armor had kept her insulated, but as night fell and the others retreated to their tents she knew she'd eventually have to remove it.

 

The only person left awake was Sten who was delicately polishing Asala which they'd barely obtained post the battle of Redcliffe. They had taken a quick foray in the mountains previously on a lead, but left the tents behind, deciding to stay the night in an inn before heading back. Tents were cheaper with the whole party involved.

 

She stood up with a groan and said good night to the Qunari who nodded his head with a simple 'Kadan' and went back to cleaning the weapon. Turning from the fire she all ready felt the cold setting in and resisted the urge to shiver. Moving quickly to her tent she attempted to make as little noise as possible, but heavy armor was not quiet and she knew that she'd most likely wake somebody up. Of course her tent was at the furthest edge of the camp- she cared for her people, but she needed her space. Entering she found herself face to face with a half asleep Mabari “Professor, honestly you have your own tent,” he groaned and stuffed his face in to her blankets “ _M_ _aker preserve me.”_ She put her hands on her hips and nudged the war hound with her foot, “We do this every night and I just haven't the patience tonight.” She waited a second and nudged him again, “If you do not get to your own tent I shall retrieve Morrigan-” his head shot up “-I imagined that would get your attention.” Eliza opened up the tent flaps and he begrudgingly headed to the smaller tent next to hers, flopping inside with an exaggerated _“humph!”_ The mabari adored Morrigan but her ability to shape shift caused him some distress.

 

Finally alone she began the process of removing her armor; she'd leave the boots for last as bending over in heavy armor was close to impossible. First the gloves, then the guard-brace, then the pauldrons, then the cuirass and so on until she was able to comfortably sit and remove her boots. The whole act of undressing was a work out in itself and she found herself sweating simply from the process, staving off the cold for just a few minutes more. She tugged at her boots and found that her feet had swollen so much that it was proving impossible to remove them. She laid back slowly on to the makeshift bed and sighed, frustrated, not only at her boots, but at the state of things. Eliza feared the blight would overtake Thedas before she could manage to make a real difference, that the dwarves would deny the warden treaties and turn them way from Orzammar, and she feared her feelings for Alistair would compromise her mission.

 

She looked down at her dirty boots and wiggled her toes inside of them, scrutinizing the articles of clothing. They were quality leather albeit wholly Ferelden. Leliana and Zeveran were _constantly_ criticizing Ferelden footwear, with Leliana longing for the buckles and ornate shoes of Orlais and Zeveran wishing to inhale the unique smell of Antivan leather. She remembered, when she was quite young her father had given her a small pair of Orlesian slippers, with tiny jewels lining the toe. They were a bugger to wear but she adored them and wore them to every party they threw. Eventually she grew too big for them and she moved on to more sensible foot wear, but she still kept the shoes locked away in a small box hidden beneath her bed--

 

 

She pushed the thought from her mind, stubbornly. She could no longer afford sentimentality.

 

 

Across the camp in his tent, Alistair lay wide awake and completely encased in blankets. He imagined he looked much like a blond sausage and completely unappetizing, a thought that brought him a fair amount of distress. He imagined Eliza probably looked absolutely adorable wrapped in blankets and it only tortured him further. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between the two, so unspoken that Alistair agonized over it day and night. Was he so naive, that he truly believed that a woman like her could ever care for a bumbling baby like him?

 

Eliza was difficult to read. She was stone faced in battle, like a great golem tearing through darkspawn and bandits alike. In conversation each word seemed practiced, with each letter pronounced exactly as it should be. He wanted to chalk it up to her noble upbringing, but he'd known nobles and none spoke like she did; nobody spoke like Eliza Cousland.

 

He worried more about her than he did with the possibility that he could be made king. Arl Eamon was convinced that the only option to save the kingdom was to put his bottom on the throne, the mere thought of which made him sick. He protested and protested but it all fell on deaf ears, except for hers. She listened, she comforted him, she understood.

 

“Makers breath,” he mumbled beneath the covers, _I've absolutely fallen in love with her haven't I?_ _Oh god what a tit, I'm an absolute tit._

 

 

 

Eliza was struggling with her boots still and was beyond tired of trying to remove them. But she was aware of some sort of moisture that had found it's way inside and she feared what would happen with continuous exposure to it, so she forced herself on. After about 30 solid seconds of pushing with her other foot, the left boot popped off and she released a rather loud sigh of relief, loud enough that she didn't hear the footsteps outside of her tent until they were at the door. She instinctively grabbed her sword and aimed it at the flaps as they opened.

 

“Sweet Andraste!”

 

“Alistair?!” She lowered the sword with an unceremonious drop “I could have ran you through! What are you doing?” She hadn't the time to worry that she was sitting in her under clothes and one dirty boot.

 

“I- I had to speak with you-”

 

“And it didn't occur to you to announce yourself?”

 

“I don't always think that far-”

 

“Oh honestly,” she replied, exasperated, “...well?”

 

“What?”

 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Alistair looked at her like a scared dog might.

 

“Get in here you're letting any warmth I've accumulated escape.” She adjusted her seating and pulled a blanket around her body to cover up what she'd exposed and urged Alistair to sit down.

 

“Forgive me, I- this- it couldn't-” He stumbled around his words trying desperately to piece them together.

 

Eliza exhaled and watched him patiently. When Alistair became flustered there was no forcing the conversation, you simply had to wait it out.

 

“I needed to say-” he looked down and saw her boot sticking out of the blanket “...are you wearing one boot?”

 

“What?” She looked down and shook her head miserably, “My feet have swollen, I've managed the left but not the right.”

 

“Here,” he got down to his knee's, raised her booted foot up and set it on his thigh, “You need to elevate your feet.” He noticed the hesitation and stiffness in her legs as he touched her, “Trust me, in a couple minutes you'll feel ten times better.”

 

“You plan to be here that long?”

 

“I-” he reached over to her left foot and placed it on his other thigh, it was obviously swollen and he knew how much that hurt. Gingerly he set his hand across her ankle and looked at her for a moment before rubbing the top of her foot, “Tell me if this isn't something you're okay with, because I wouldn't want-”

 

“It's fine,” she replied curtly, before taking a breath and smiling, “It's fine.”

 

He nodded and lifted his other hand to her exposed foot and began gently massaging it. He worked quietly and patiently, making sure his clumsy hands were for once on the same page. After a while he noticed her watching him, but not his hands.

 

Eliza was watching his eyes.

 

She was wholly invested in his countenance, she'd known this for a while. His hair was the perfect shade of blond, with just he right amount of red, like a sunset in autumn. His skin, although weather beaten managed to stay smooth and youthful. But his hazel eyes that sparkled when he laughed, with the bits of gold strewn about were the very first thing she noticed about him. She suddenly felt very foolish and turned her head away from him. “What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?”

 

Alistair chuckled “This,” he kept massaging, “whatever _this_ is.”

 

“I don't follow.”

 

He tugged at her boot a bit and found it to be much looser, eased it off of her foot and set it with her other one; Eliza was very organized and he didn't want to disturb that. When he turned back he noticed her staring right at him, her pale green eyes aimed directly in to his “Eliza-”

 

“Alistair I am I am not a woman who deals with intentional obstructions well.” She sat up enough so that the blanket no longer covered her shoulders, although she held it to her chest. They were strong, and well seasoned from years of battle and combat training; she did not have the body of a young woman but that of a warrior.

 

Alistair hung his head, “I am so afraid.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Of everything, to start with?” he laughed, “Of the darkspawn, of not stopping Loghain in time, of accidentally eating spoiled cheese, of dying at any moment without ever feeling the touch of your lips-” he stopped himself and turned away “-it's an absolutely ridiculous notion and I swear I'm not a romantic, obviously, but something about you makes me want to recite poetry and I feel like an absolute tit every time I speak to you.”

 

Eliza watched him able to speak but not willing to, it was not her place to interrupt. But his words- _Maker._

 

“Andraste knows I've done nothing in my life to deserve you” he sighed “and I can't imagine what you're thinking but you have to know that _I love you_ -” and there it was. He lifted his head quickly and tried to focus but found he was shaking; he blamed it on the cold but knew it had nothing to do with it. He felt her feet move from his thighs and closed his eyes “I'm sorry I shouldn't have, I'll leave-”

 

“Don't,” Eliza whispered as she sat up on her knee's, dropping the blanket between them, “Alistair, don't.” She clumsily shuffled toward him, her mind a jumble of probabilities. She could change her mind, she could ask him to leave, she could lie and say there was nothing there; It would be safer for both of them in the long run. But she knew that they'd been working their way to this place since the day they met and stopping now would only delay the inevitable.

 

She reached up with a calloused hand and held his jaw, Alistair kept his eyes closed and leaned in to it “Say it again.”

 

“I love you.”

 

There was no hesitation in his voice then, that one phrase said with such absolute conviction. She pulled herself up so that she was straddling his waist, wrapping her limbs completely around him. She leaned her face in to his neck and inhaled softly, he smelled better than expected, like sweet oil and ash from the fire. It was seconds before she felt his hands, raising awkwardly to her lower back, and settling gently above her hips. Leaning her mouth to his jaw she whispered “I have waited -sweet Maker have I waited- to hear you to speak such delicacies to me.”

 

“R-Really?”

 

Eliza smiled warmly, “With baited breath.”

 

Alistair released the breath he'd been holding with a great shudder. He tried to ignore the consequences that this could bring about, pushing them to the back of his mind. He did not need doubts, not now, they were more trouble than they were worth. “You have no idea how it feels to hear that,” he replied sounding as if he'd just run a mile.

 

She kissed his jaw lightly, tasting his skin for the first time; he clenched and she smiled, kissing it again. There was a light stubble that pierced her lips, but she didn't mind it. Trailing kisses along his jawline to his ear, she recalled a previous conversation with Alistair about the oaths he took as a Templar. He'd revealed that he'd never been with a woman and Eliza was suddenly apprehensive. She was no spring flower; she feared Alistair may not be ready. She leaned her pelvis forward and pressed her lips to his neck, “Is this acceptable?”

 

“Acceptable?” He replied with a small laugh, his voice deep and breathless, “It's more than acceptable.”

 

She kissed his neck again before focusing her tongue along his Adam’s apple; not every man enjoyed this particular thing, but Alistair was more than responsive. He tightened his grip around her waist and she knew that he was completely hers. He'd follow her in to the fire, to face death itself, she only need command it.

 

Eliza raised her head from her ministrations to look into his eyes. There was barely enough light to see them but they seemed to radiate, like small suns looking back at her. She pressed her lips to his, hovering just above them, allowing their breath to converge, before pushing forward. Her lips were slightly chapped from the cold but her tongue was like warm silk, with each kiss stronger and longer than the one before it.

 

Alistair was in awe of her, every movement was swift and passionate- he felt weak in her arms.

 

Eliza dropped her arms from his shoulders, sliding them down his chest, before edging her cold fingers beneath his undershirt. He didn't have time to react as she was pushing his shirt up and over his head, using her thighs to hold on as he temporarily let go to remove it. He was lean, but not thin, built, but not brawny; his shoulders were much like hers.

 

She touched his chest, he was covered in small scars, but there was one across his shoulder that was longer and raised up as if it was just healing, he winced as she touched it, “Is this recent?”

 

“Afraid not,” he rolled his shoulder a little, “It's not as bad as it used to be, the healers said that it _is_ healing, but it's taking it's sweet time.”

 

“Are you in pain?”

 

“No” he smiled “it's just- sensitive.”

 

She leaned down and kissed it softly and felt his hands getting antsy on her hips. He was hesitant and she understood; he'd never done anything like this before.

 

She reached around to his hands, slowly edging them across her hips, toward her stomach and between her thighs. She smiled and kissed him, “It's all right.”

 

Alistair leaned in to her lips -breathless- allowing himself, with her permission, to relax. He lifted his hand and pushed it beneath her undershirt, certain that at any moment she'd ask him to leave. He felt like he'd fallen in to a fantastic dream were a desire demon masquerading as the warden had caught him; if it were true he wasn't sure that he minded. He'd only come to talk, his fears and insecurities had overwhelmed him to the point of not sleeping and he could no longer sit idly by. But his worries seemed to have been completely unwarranted as she urged him along. It was all just fantastic and completely overwhelming.

 

The barrier finally having been breached Eliza quickly removed her undershirt, dropping it neatly beside her boots. Alistair had moved from her lips to her neck, he was clumsy but enthusiastic, Eliza was completely enamored. It was still absolutely freezing in the tent, a heavy chill creeped up her spine causing a shiver to course itself through her body.

 

Alistair stopped and lifted his lips centimeters above her skin, “Are you all right?”

 

“Yes of course” she whispered, “simply cold.”

 

“Well-” he replied, kissing her shoulder tenderly “-I imagine we'll have to do something about that.”

 

“Is that so?” Eliza didn't give him a chance to respond, before leaning her body away from him and, using her legs, tugged him forward; he had little choice but to go along with her. There wasn't much space between her and the bed so when she hit the impact was minimal.

 

Alistair let out a small oomph and chuckled. He recalled when she first asked him to train her as a Templar, he'd never had to fight her one and one before and was surprised to find she could more than hold her own. In fact, he'd gather that she was stronger, faster and better trained than he was. Her dominance held true in every aspect of her life and he knew this would be no different.

 

He repositioned himself between her knee's and leaned down to kiss her again, but only lingered for a moment. He nipped at her jaw before kissing sweetly the sensitive part of her collar bone, catching a small moan from her lips.

 

He prayed she could let herself go, he prayed he could give her what she needed.

 

He paid special attention to her neck as he attempted to remove her bra- an embarrassing affair to be certain although he managed it- before resting his mouth above her breast, breathing hotly. He felt her hips raise just slightly an indication, he purported, of urging and extended his tongue flicking it quickly, then slowly, gauging her response.

 

Eliza closed her eyes and reveled in the moment. She could feel the tension easing from her body, like a wave rolling from her eyes to her feet. What dreams she'd had, what fantasies, that brought her to this moment. _He loves me_ she thought as his free hand cupped her breast; _he loves me._ It was almost too real to be true.

 

Alistair’s hands were unsettled and feeling every inch of her; he wanted to know the placements of her scars, the lines of her muscles and the texture of her skin. He wanted to taste every part of her, know her inside and out, it was _everything_ to him. Releasing her breast he kissed her stomach inching downward toward her hips, ignoring the biting cold at his back, and nipped at her legs. “The boys-” he kissed the inside of her thighs “-used to talk about how they pleased their partners-” Alistair felt his cheeks flush but forced himself to continue on “-and one particular warden spoke of using his tongue on-”

 

“Yes” she replied abruptly, opening her eyes to peer at Alistair whose face was all ready situated between her knee's.

 

“Would that be something you'd enjoy?” He raised his eyebrow; his face- he was sure- was as pink as a nugs ass, but he had to attempt to be at least a little cocky.

 

“It would.” Eliza lifted up her hips and Alistair promptly began removing her underwear, dropping them next to him; her skin prickled from his stubble as he pressed his face back between her legs. He inhaled gently and raised his hands to her thighs and with mild urging pushed them open. Eliza adjusted her bottom so to give him easier access to all of her, he knew then that this wasn't he first time she'd been in this position. He was suddenly anxious, afraid he wouldn't live up to her previous lovers, she deserved to feel fantastic, she deserved a man of experience. His hesitation must have been apparent, because her hand was suddenly sitting beside his chin. “Alistair-” He looked up with a furrowed brows “-fear is unbecoming of a warrior.” He chuckled, she was having none of his anxiety and it reminded him of why exactly he'd come to her tent tonight. He laid his body out so that he was leaning on his elbows and rubbed his cheek against her inner thigh; her skin was smooth here as any hair that may have been there had been rubbed off by friction. He reached forward with both index fingers and laid them against her vulva, separating her curly hair and felt her body tense. He rubbed gently against her lips, before laying both hands down and separating them.

 

“ _Mmm._ ”

 

Alistair smiled- he was no longer anxious.

 

Lifting his chin he pressed his tongue against her, flattening it out and flicking it casually upwards. He experimented with different areas, assessing her response; he wasn't a particularly smart man but he knew Eliza and he knew she wasn't one to hold anything back. She was growing more moist with every lick and he found that when he focused his tongue toward the top of her vulva she pushed harder against his mouth. He began rolling his tongue in circles around what he knew to be a sensitive spot, although the name for it escaped him. He peered up a moment to see her hands grasping the blankets beneath them, her mouth hung open like she was singing a chantry hymn; he knew she could feel his grin as he worked himself in to a rhythm.

  
“ _Alistair-_ ” Eliza was breathless, it had been quite some time since she'd felt the touch of another and Alistair was proving to be a quick learner. She felt her body raise up and her stomach tense “ _Oh maker”_ she'd be angry at herself for the blaspheming if she'd had the mind to remember to be. He'd moved his hand to use one calloused finger to rub gently against her sex and she was surprised to find the rough nature of it to be arousing; within moments she was clenching her jaw and grunting. There was nothing noble about the sounds she was making and she no longer had the self control to care. It was something else entirely as she came, she had to bite in to her lip to keep herself from exclaiming and instead released a high pitched moan behind her closed lips.

 

Alistair leaned back and wiped his mouth with a numb smile, he took her shaking body as confirmation of a job well done, “I've never heard you make a noise like that before.”

 

“Shut it” she tried to adjust herself, but her knee's were wobbling and she only ended up laying flat out “oh this is ridiculous.” Alistair laid down next to her with a smile and wrapped his arm around her waist as her breathing returned to normal “You've got a gentle tongue Alistair” she turned to him “but rough fingers.”

 

“I apologize.”

 

“What for?” She laughed, a sound not common to her lips. Alistair felt his pride surge- to hear her relax enough to laugh, even if it was at his own ignorance, was fantastic.

 

“Then I rescind my apology as I've done nothing wrong” he leaned his face against her breast and sighed. They lay there quietly for a moment before he felt her leg began to twitch against him, he ignored it at first but found the twitching had evolved in to rubbing and her leg had been replaced with her hand. He opened his eyes to see her sitting up, she smiled as she lifted the edge of his underclothes and pushed her hand down them, grasping his shaft with a gentle grip. Alistair swallowed and leaned his head in to the nape of her neck as she began to slowly stroke; the simple action of having another person performing an act once saved for private showering and lonely nights was enough to get his chest heaving. He wasn't aware of the whining however until he felt her cheeks raise in to a smile “What?” He asked through heavy breaths.

 

“If man were ever a mabari” she kissed him atop the head “you'd be the first.” She felt the cold begin to creep back up her spine and reached for the blankets below them. At first her tugging produced no results as her mind had yet to fully grasp that she was laying on them, when she did in fact remember she laughed and rolled atop Alistair, pulling the blankets along as she did.

 

“Well well” he looked up at Eliza with a crooked smile. His large hands adorned her hips like a warm breeze; he pressed his thumbs, with a tenderness warriors like them shouldn't possess, against her pelvis.

 

“I was getting cold” she lowered her upper body so that his fingers pressed deeper in to her bones; her hips were sore from the journey but the pressure was soothing. She draped the blanket across her back to shelter them from the incoming freeze and kissed him. His mouth had an urgency she'd yet to feel from him, a hunger for more; her mabari argument felt even more applicable now. She was frankly stunned with her own assertiveness, not that she'd ever had issues with such, but when it came to him even her own brain seemed to stumble.

 

Alistair rolled his hands around her body, massaging what he could, caressing what he couldn't. He felt two large scars across her lower back and reminded himself while he still had the mind to, to ask her about them. He felt her right hand press against his gut as she lifted her pelvis up slightly; he was unable to fully process the next few actions until he felt a warmth envelop his cock that was entirely new.

 

He closed his eyes tightly just for a moment, just to take it all in, he couldn't believe this was happening. He never imagined this, it might have been because his imagination was limited to the books they had at the chantry, but nothing in his life had prepared him for sex- nothing had truly prepared him for love. His thought process was interrupted when he felt Eliza begin to move and it forced his eyes open. He found her watching him, mouth slightly open as she rolled her hips against him. He lifted his hips just slightly to put pressure on her pelvis as she moved, this in turn caused Eliza to dig her fingernails in to Alistair's hands.

 

It was a learning process but eventually they found a rhythm, a gentle back and forth of sweat and wet mouths that turned Alistair's eagerness to passion. His strong arms stood like pillars beside her face, as he rolled her beneath him- it was an awkward movement but no amount of practice could make it less so. She kissed his forearms while he thrust in to her and she found that no thoughts but present events could permeate her mind; it had felt like forever since she'd been able to be so single minded. “ _Alistair_ ” she whispered against his arm “Alistair, oh, _shit_ ” she closed her eyes hard and her body tightened as another orgasm rolled through her stomach and legs. It wasn't quite as strong as the first one, but it was heaven nonetheless. As she caught her breath she noticed Alistair had quickened his pace, his hot breath creating a cloud of fog above the two like an early morning mist. He leaned down and flicked his tongue against her breast and kissed her neck in return she wrapped her arms and legs around him like climbing a rather broad tree and watched as his body bobbed back and forth.

 

“Eliza” Alistair moaned against her neck “I love you.”

 

“I love you too” she replied as his body went stiff against her, the result of an orgasm long coming. After a moment he rolled to the side of her and returned the blankets to them, he found himself beneath her arm and exhaled. “How do you feel?” She asked gently as she stroked his hair.

 

“Like I never want to move” he chuckled “like I could die right here.”

 

“My love we have more to do before our death” she smiled “but I promise when it comes, it will be in each others arms” she leaned down to kiss his forehead but was met with his lips.

 

“You promise?”

 

“With all of my heart.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This took me 4 months to complete and at 10 pages and over 4000 words if you made it through bless you, because unless this was my ship I'd be like "GET ON WITH IT". This is also my first story I've written using my main Warden Eliza and I know she's very dry, but I adore her.


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